


and what stars they were

by aecaeles



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2019 canon, Character Study, Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, hand holding, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 11:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19868647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aecaeles/pseuds/aecaeles
Summary: dan contemplates his and phil's relationship and his love of physical affection, namely, hand holding.here is a character study for my boy daniel.this is the companion fic to "and what a feeling it was" which is a character study from phil's perspective. both are standalone fics.





	and what stars they were

There was something about it, the comforting weight of another hand his. Suns would sleep and skies would burn but it was this familiar, and yet intoxicatingly foreign sensation that would drive him mad. The drag of alien fingerprints, all the seconds in the world slowing to accommodate and document the feeling of someone else’s skin on his own.

The number of ways to hold someone’s hand was only equal to the number of stars in the sky.

The distracted, grabby, _hey look at that cloud isn’t it cool- oh you missed it_ hand that left his head spinning.

The discreet touch of a finger on the back of his palm on a crowded train, _how are you holding up_ and then a look up into damning poetry-blue eyes that held a thousand similar moments, and would hold a thousand more.

The surprised, high-off-oxygen capture of his hand after a winning match of something he had stopped paying attention to in favor of drinking in Phil’s excitement and his smile.

The slow, honeyed warmth of an arm stretching out across the dinner table, that words like _soft_ and _searing_ and _soul_ were made for.

The sweet grasp of pinky fingers while cuddled into Phil’s neck, smiles as wide as the sky outside their apartment, and as dazzlingly bright as the stars.

Each touch had Dan’s mind drifting into blissful oblivion, and it had taken a long while, but he’d stopped trying to rationalize it.

Phil’s hand fit perfectly in his, tapered fingers, unconventionally beautiful and somehow the death of Dan every time. Every awkward hand gesture, every toss of keys or a phone that nearly always ended in disaster, every wave that accompanied the _hey guys_ that ruined him from the very first day- they were all quirky and lovable in a way Dan couldn’t contain inside himself.

His traitorous heart would swell in his chest, leaving space for the inevitable glass bubble of warmth and butterflies that he could only be attributed to _phil phil phil_. It was glass made of fire and dead stars and it needled at him and made his heart hurt and his head run on empty, and his mouth a supernova.

His own hands, he knew now, were beautiful too, in their own way. He had heard it enough times from Phil to begin accepting it. It became a well-worn childhood book, in his head, this praise of himself. He could no longer tell whether he believed this truth or if he had heard it enough times that it was the same thing.

This had taken a long time, to learn how to undo the tripwires in his brain. The ones that caught him with unsuspecting memories, phrases, comments, phone calls, pictures, all luring him into the trap they called truth. Eager to catch him, they laid constellations and carried out careful contemplations in the back of his mind.

They still laid siege to his brain some nights, and he could only keep tripping, falling until he could pick himself up again. Sometimes, it still felt like a useless cycle, but that was alright. If Phil could be part of the messy, useless cycle he called his life, maybe it didn’t have to have meaning.

And although the tripwires still cornered him sometimes, Dan had learned how to watch his footing, acknowledge the hazard, and find another way round. For a long time, he skirted around the wires, leaving widening gaps in his brain he could not visit. But he had learned how to change that, how to accept that he was broken, and how, despite every therapy appointment, that was how he was going to be sometimes. His darkness was a part of him, but it did not control him, and he was alright for now.

For now, he had the days of lazy, perfect nothingness. For now, he had the endless nights of conversations and melting into each other’s space and calling it fate.

For now, he had Phil. He had the infinite touch of his hands, catching and holding and _needing_ and _wanting_ just as much as he did.

This was for him.

And they would make the best of this, this drunken, starry-eyed and misadventured affection they called love. Because it was Dan and Phil, two against the world. And with them, it felt like breathing.

Because for now, a hand in his was the way he could see the stars.

And what stars they were.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment or a kudos :)))
> 
> come say hello on my art instagram @apricotsaint, my writing instagram @aecaeles, and on tumblr @eganantiquus!
> 
> stay safe, my darlings, i love you.


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